


Fall, The

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: Episode: s02e20 The Fall's Gonna Kill You
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-05-05
Updated: 2001-05-05
Packaged: 2019-05-15 21:05:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14797943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: Sam gets revenge, Post-ep toThe Fall Is Going to Kill You





	1. Fall, The

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

Disclaimer: Not mine. Not one of them. Sigh.  
Archive: If you please, just let me know where.  
Spoilers: The Fall's Gonna Kill You.  
Summary: Revenge and therapy. Sam gets told. 

The Fall.  
1/2

"Josh, do you know what George Washington and Larry  
have in common?" Donna asked, storming into her boss'  
office. 

"They... both didn't live in the White House during  
the administration?" attempted Josh. 

"Nope, that's not it." 

"They... both were 5'7" tall?" 

"Not even close." 

"Just tell me, Donna." 

Donna's eyes glared with genuine anger. 

"I intend to. The thing Washington and Larry have in  
common is that they both cannot tell a lie." 

Josh smiled with uncertainty. 

"That's something they tell kids in grade school to  
keep them from lying, you know." 

"I do. I was very gullible in grade school, and I  
believed it." 

"Okay." 

"Apparently, I'm still very gullible." 

Josh thought for a moment, until her words sunk in. 

"Oh." 

"Yes." 

"So you know." 

"An ordinary thing, Josh? Satellites fall out of the  
sky every day? We're practically living under a  
satellite shower?" 

"Yes. It no longer rains cats and dogs, Donna. It  
rains satellites." 

"I'm not sure it ever rained cats and dogs," said  
Donna, and her eyes clouded. Soon, she collected  
herself and shook her head in dismay. 

"Charlie mentioned plutonium and I got so worried...  
And you let me go on being scared all day without the  
slightest hint of... how could you do that?" 

"I don't know." Josh closed his eyes for a second. "I  
guess I just didn't think about it. I spent the day  
begging Leo for money and watching Sam mourn dead fish  
and... well, other things. I didn't think about it." 

"That's comforting." Donna stuffed the no longer  
threatening fax copy into a wastebasket. "I should  
have asked the President. He'd never lie to me." 

A loud noise served as reply to that. Donna turned,  
startled, to find Josh crouching on the floor picking  
up the mug and pencils, scattered everywhere. 

"What's the matter?" she asked. 

"Knocked it over," explained Josh, suddenly hoarse.   
"The... uh... the anti-tobacco group representative  
was here earlier and he should be back again. I want  
to talk to him again - there's something he said about  
the lawsuit I'll need clarification on." 

"Is there funding for it?" 

"There will be. Go, I'll be around." 

*** 

"Sam. Come in, please." 

"How are you doing, Mr. President. The Chicago speech  
is almost ready, and I'd like to warn you there might  
be some crowd whispering in the back because I refused  
to insert the monument to horrid writing I was offered  
to insert." 

"I see. Anything else I need to know about this?" 

"No, sir, but you probably should know that I may  
have, in the course of the day, offended high school  
girls and with no compelling reason to do so." 

"I imagine the consequences of that will be shocking."  
The President pointed at the caramel-striped couch and  
Sam sat carefully on its edge. "Sam. About ten years  
ago I was diagnosed with an incurable disease called  
multiple sclerosis and, while running for office, I  
concealed this fact from the American people and my  
closest friends." 

Sam stood up. "I beg your pardon, sir?" 

"I have MS. It's gonna be out in the open from now  
on." 

Sam shook his head in disbelief, then lowered himself  
on the couch again. 

"Are... are you okay, Mr. President? Is this  
disease..." 

"I'm not going to die any time soon, if that's what  
you mean. And I'm fine for the moment. My wife has  
been giving me injections of beta serum that reduces  
the frequency of the attacks." 

"I see." 

"Sam, you're going to have to talk to Oliver Babish  
today. He's in his office, why don't you go see him  
right now." 

"Yes, sir. Do the others know?" 

"I've told everyone this week, and Leo's known for two  
years." 

Sam hesitated for a moment, as if struggling between  
tears and words. Breathing deeply, he finally  
managed, "May I ask when Toby was told?" 

"He was the first one this week, why?" 

"No reason... it just seemed a few times like he  
wanted to tell me something but didn't. And before I  
came here, he said he'd be in his office in case I  
wanted to talk or something." 

The President smiled. "I'll be in my office if you  
want to talk, Sam." 

"Thank you, sir." 

"Sam, I'm very glad I get a chance to tell you myself.  
It's important to me that the people I trust know they  
can trust me as well." 

Sam looked up with fear and question in his eyes. 

"And I know what you think - it wasn't very  
trustworthy of me to keep this from you for almost  
three years, but there was no other choice." 

"I know that. I'm just... I'm so sorry, sir. I wish  
there was something I could do." 

"There is. You've been doing it until now and I know  
you'll continue doing it however long we remain in  
this building. I can't wait to read the Chicago  
speech." 

"First thing in the morning. I'm going down to the  
basement now." 

"He's a good lawyer, Sam," Bartlet added as the young  
man was leaving. 

"So am I, sir. Thank you, Mr. President." 

Sam walked out of the Oval Office and leaned on the  
wall outside it. Glad neither Charlie nor Mrs.  
Landingham were there to see him, he breathed deeply  
and irregularly, clutching his chest. When the panic  
attack subsided, he pulled down the sleeves of his  
suit jacket, straightened his collar and walked  
downstairs.  
************* 

TBC,

 

  


	2. Fall, The 2

 

  


Disclaimer: Not mine. Not one of them. Sigh.  
Archive: If you please, just let me know where.  
Spoilers: The Fall's Gonna Kill You.  
Summary: Revenge and therapy. Sam gets told. 

The Fall  
2/2

CJ knocked on the wooden door and let herself in.   
Toby was sitting behind his desk, feet propped on it,  
reading a newspaper. When she walked in, he changed  
his position and put the paper down. 

"So you knew." 

"Yes." 

"That's why you told me you'd be here when I was  
done." 

"And I am. Are you all right?" asked Toby. 

"No, I'm not." CJ sat down opposite him and picked up  
a baseball-shaped paperweight with shaking fingers. "I  
am a conspirator to a federal crime. When he'd given  
me his health information, I'd always asked him if  
there was anything else I needed to know..." 

"Instead of whether there was anything else you should  
know," finished Toby. "I heard Oliver Babish can be  
pretty carnivorous sometimes." 

"I don't know how this is going to end." CJ put the  
paperweight down and wiped a runaway tear from her  
cheek. 

"You mean for the administration?" 

"I mean for all of us, individually. Do you  
understand that I'm the first one to go to jail for  
this?" 

"Don't worry. We'll be right behind you." 

She let out a small laugh and stood up. 

"I'm going home," she said. "See you tomorrow." 

"Okay. Thanks." 

"For what?" 

"Coming here when I offered." 

She smiled warmly on her way out. "Thanks for being  
here." 

*** 

"What the hell is this?" Josh raised his eyes from his  
desk, where a single piece of paper lay. 

"It's a standard rejection form, Josh, what do you  
think it is? Margaret brought it over." Donna didn't  
bother walking into his office and simply yelled from  
her desk. 

"It's blank." 

"Leo probably thought you may have reached the age of  
seven and would know how to fill it out yourself.   
He's busy enough." 

"I can't believe it." He walked outside and stretched  
against the wall, the application in his hands. "I  
cannot believe this isn't getting funded. It's only  
the most important issue on my agenda this week!" 

"That's too bad, really." She sounded very sincere. 

"Fill this out for me, would you?" She took the paper  
willingly and began writing as he made sure every inch  
of his back touched the wall. "This is positively the  
second worst day I've ever had, beginning to end." 

"What was the first day?" Donna asked, writing. 

"Doesn't matter. Give me that." 

"Sign it on the bottom." She pointed and waited for  
him to sign, then swiped the sheet from him and smiled  
victoriously. "This is going into my memorabilia, you  
know." 

"What?" 

"You may look at it, but don't dare touch it. I'm  
keeping this." Josh squinted to see 'Mr. Gullible'  
printed in large letters next to NAME. Donna laughed  
and hid the paper just as soon as he reached for it. 

"Donna! How could you keep a straight face while  
telling me all this? Oh... wait a minute." 

"You're getting funded, Josh. Keep you pants on. I  
just wanted retribution for this morning." 

"Revenge of the nerds," he murmured angrily. Donna  
laughed again. 

"I got you, didn't I?" 

"Revenge of the nerds II, even." 

"It's okay to be jealous, Joshua. This was very  
skillfully done, it took me almost an hour to dig that  
stupid form out of the archives and I bet you didn't  
even know we don't use them anymore." 

"There's a giant asteroid headed for Earth!" he tried,  
but she was already on her way home. 

*** 

"Toby? Are you there?" 

"Come in, Sam. Have a seat." 

Sam walked in slowly and dropped on the couch. 

"I feel like I've been eaten alive, but not quite  
digested yet," he admitted. "I mean, I thought I was  
good at being a lawyer, but Oliver Babish is...  
Everyone hates him!" he complained in subtle  
comradeship. 

"He must be good, then," Toby agreed. "No one hates  
you," he added carefully. 

"Except for all those dead fish." 

"Not if they are dead." 

"Toby!" 

"Okay." 

"I'm going home," Sam said. "I'm suffocating here.   
Toby..." 

"I'm sorry for not telling you sooner, Sam. I should  
have. I just wanted to give you a few more days  
without this news. Once you know, you can't go back  
again." 

"I appreciate that." Sam stood up and shook Toby's  
hand. "See you tomorrow." 

"Thanks for stopping by. He's going to be all right,  
you know." 

"I know." Sam walked out of his office, feeling  
slightly easier. Heading to the exit, he saw CJ  
reading in her office and Josh chasing Donna in his.   
The President was still working in the Oval, and for a  
moment Sam felt oddly tempted to go there and tell him  
he was with him all the way, but the Chicago speech  
still needed tweaking, and as he started his car, his  
thoughts flew to the many bad essays, written by high  
school girls, that he read in his time.  
***************** 

 


End file.
